tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71290994662939801862024-03-05T20:50:51.056-08:00Reflections of a Millennial MamaThe writings of a woman who strives to have it all: career, love, and familyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-43073159717375408922017-01-20T22:55:00.000-08:002017-01-20T22:58:42.883-08:00Connecting With My Newborn<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwo2NPZa9DdZFPeGvetCnfVdEpSYNTfHUOkKoRvwNQnMqW5hxLUt-eRNYdYLoQ0WPmBBXfEbNAfCnExAm8Pz-ubnGTtg1RMWcmDrvuz9kBha7Ike7bRu9tLZsSr_zgXNVxmYiSb_1KIog/s1600/IMG_2581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwo2NPZa9DdZFPeGvetCnfVdEpSYNTfHUOkKoRvwNQnMqW5hxLUt-eRNYdYLoQ0WPmBBXfEbNAfCnExAm8Pz-ubnGTtg1RMWcmDrvuz9kBha7Ike7bRu9tLZsSr_zgXNVxmYiSb_1KIog/s320/IMG_2581.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">When my daughter was born, and I saw her for the first time, I didn’t feel the instantaneous connection that I always heard about from other mothers. All I felt was relief. I was glad she was alive, and that was about all I could handle at the time. My daughter’s birth was unexpected and in many ways traumatic. I was 37 weeks pregnant and my daughter was presenting breech. In an effort to have a natural birth, I went in for a procedure that was meant to externally flip her. I was really scared, but I had my heart set on natural childbirth and I wanted to make sure I exhausted every option before having a c-section. I had read and read about all the benefits of labor and natural childbirth. I, like all parents, only wanted what was best for her. I also wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. Childbirth was like a mountain I was determined to climb. I attended a two day lamaze class and in the class we were taught to come up with some sort of focus tool to help us concentrate on the breathing techniques. I have always been a visualizer, so I created a visualization of the doctor laying my daughter on my chest after I delivered her. Needless to say, my visualization did not come to fruition. Instead, during the flipping procedure, my daughter’s heart rate dropped and I had to undergo an emergency c-section. It was the scariest moment of my life. </span></span></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-44d4f928-bfc0-6760-56d5-696c90ee1826" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The days after her arrival I was in such a daze. Not only was I dealing with pain from the surgery, but I also was sore and had major bruising from the flipping procedure. It was hard t</span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">o nurse my daughter because of all my abdominal pain, and as weird as it may sound, I was still processing the fact that she had been born- even though it had been days since her birth. To be honest, I was scared. This little baby in front of me was a stranger. I knew that I loved her, and that I would give my life for her, but I felt no connection to her. I didn’t know what to do or who to talk to, and I didn’t want to reveal the truth about how I was feeling. I feared it was abnormal. I had convinced myself I was broken. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwFZO63TsseZn3bAlQCfVCa2X5RkCXV8_Gfy0uG4_mX2g6528-YfhvYxfO8YV_WBtEEN_Ri0AXXUzko5V0OvrBSG4NMLYS2ixWcBtzsLPrymlVpmWhc319NHIsSd5nU5C6ze1QjWw0z8/s1600/IMG_3028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwFZO63TsseZn3bAlQCfVCa2X5RkCXV8_Gfy0uG4_mX2g6528-YfhvYxfO8YV_WBtEEN_Ri0AXXUzko5V0OvrBSG4NMLYS2ixWcBtzsLPrymlVpmWhc319NHIsSd5nU5C6ze1QjWw0z8/s320/IMG_3028.JPG" width="320" /></a><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Still, I went through the motions. I did everything I thought a mother should do with her newborn. I held her and rocked her, nursed her for hours on end, read to her, and sang to her. And as days turned into weeks, a bud of affection started to blossom within me that was different then what I already felt. And then it happened, out of nowhere. I can still remember the moment when it all clicked and I fell head over heals in love with my baby. I was singing a song to her softly after a nursing session. I held in in my lap facing me, and she looked up at me and blinked. I froze, right then and there, in that moment, it was like I was seeing her for the first time. From that moment on, I was engulfed in her. I felt like I had known her all my life. It was amazing and I was so relieved. Now, there is not a moment that goes by that I do not feel deeply rooted in my love and bond with my daughter.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Instantly bonding and connecting to our babies is something every mother is expected to do. I am sure, for many moms, it happens the moment they lay eyes on them. However, there are some moms, like me, who after undergoing a traumatic delivery, can experience something totally different- and it can be pretty scary. So, I continue to share my story and experiences so other new moms out there know that they are not alone, and most importantly, that connecting with your baby is different for every mother. Still, If you are feeling a distance from your baby or are having a hard time coping with motherhood, just remember that, the most important thing you need to do is find a way to help yourself. No matter what, your beautiful baby is going to need a mother who is happy and healthy, so be your own advocate and don’t be ashamed of what you may be feeling because you are definitely not alone.</span></span></div>
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</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-67014516731625162522016-05-05T11:23:00.002-07:002016-05-05T11:23:12.540-07:00One More Thing Mothers Judge Each Other For: Push Presents<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Technically, I didn’t push out my daughter. She was cut out of me during an emergency c-section. It was traumatic and scary, but successful. Within an hour after surgery, she was in my arms- this squirmy pink little thing. She was three weeks early, but still absolutely perfect. The day we came home from the hospital, my husband ran out to pick up some necessities and when he returned he surprised me with a beautiful charm to add to the charm bracelet I had already started. My Push Present, he explained. I loved it then, I love it now, regardless of what judgments come my way.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Push presents, for those who may be confused, are gifts given to a woman after the birth of her child, by her partner. I am sure you can come to the conclusion on your own as to why it is called a “Push” Present. It is usually a piece of jewelry to mark the event, but I’ve also known woman who have received other small gifts. It’s a new practice, starting sometime after I was born, so my mother never received one or knew what it was. Out of the handful of women I know who have had children, only one woman was given a Push Present. Many of the others didn’t really know what a Push Present was, and a few said that it would have been nice, but they weren’t give one, and one knew what it was but didn’t want one.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I wanted one, and since my husband didn’t know what a Push Present was, I was happy to educate him. We talked about it briefly once. At first, my husband laughed at me about it, “You actually want a Push Present?” He asked. “Yep!” was my reply. I did, and I didn’t feel bad about it. Honestly, I just thought it was a kind gesture my husband could make in an effort to say, “Hey- thank you so much for growing a human inside of you, and going through the painful process of delivering said human.” Later in life, I would be able to look at my present, or wear it, and remember that special day. I honestly didn’t think there would be so much judging that would take place surrounding the idea.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Little did I realize that there would be so many women who would be appalled at the idea that I would enjoy receiving a gift after the delivery of my baby. Several times during my pregnancy while on Mommy Forums the topic of Push Presents came up and there were a lot of commenters who said things like, “My present is baby!” Well- obviously! Anyone out there who thinks that a woman would rather want a ring then their actual baby after the birth is crazy! Others would say things like, “I don’t need a present.” Neither do I, I don’t “need” a present, but none of us “need” presents, that’s why they are so special when you receive one. Another often repeated comment, “My husband isn’t going to get a present, so why should I?” This is true, my husband would not be receiving a present, but to me that’s okay. The idea is to get the person who did all the hard labor-literally- a gift. My husband is not a neglected man, by any means. Finally, many woman posted that this was an expense they couldn't afford. By no means, should a Push Present create financial hardship! That's just downright irresponsible. Push Presents aren't meant to be something grand and majestic, rather something sweet and meaningful, and within your means. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I have to admit, after reading post after post, and blogs about how stupid and selfish Push Presents are, I definitely started to feel bad about wanting one. Was I being selfish? I guess in the most basic sense of the word I was, but then, does that mean anytime we get excited about the prospect of gifts from our loved ones for special occasions we are also being selfish? Yes, materialism is a problem, and that an over infatuation with things can affect your ability to appreciate what really counts in life. I get that. But I also think this wasn’t that big of a deal.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I finally decided that it didn’t matter to me what others would think. If my husband bought me a Push Present then that would be a special moment between the two of us. And it was. I love my little charm, and every time I look at it I think of that terrible turned beautiful moment of my daughter’s birth. I can hear the doctor telling me that my daughter’s heart rate was falling and she needed to perform a c-section and get her out. I can still see my husband’s eyes widen and his nervous smile as he looked at me, both of us knowing we were going to meet our baby girl that day. My Push Present is not just something pretty and sparkly that I wear around my wrist; it is the fear, excitement, pain, and overwhelming joy packed into a small silver heart. It is not something I am either ashamed of or proud, it just is. I am not sure if I will get a Push Present for every child I have, but if I do, I will happily accept the gift because I know it’s a tangible way for my husband to show his love and gratitude to me for helping our family grow and thrive. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Life is too short to always be so judgemental. As mothers, we need to celebrate each other more and criticize less. Don't worry, mothers who have received Push Presents (myself included) know there is more to life than objects, we know it’s all about the beauty of our children. You may think our gifts are stupid, but that’s okay. On the days when I am working late and miss my daughter the most, I know that I can look down at my wrist and see that little silver heart and be reminded of the little girl who now holds a piece of mine. How can you judge me for that?</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-21067619182697123522016-05-01T12:00:00.000-07:002016-05-03T15:43:25.320-07:00The Big Problem with Little Lies<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-87ed0fbf-5d54-c832-8204-0ada7def2078" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">There is nothing more that I hate than when my husband lies. I’m not talking about big lies. I’m talking about small ones, like if he paid the phone bill on time or mailed something I asked him to. Tiny, seemingly inconsequential lies that come out of the mouth like a burp-a stinky reflex that one claims they have no control over. Some of you may be wondering, what’s the big deal? So spouses fib every once in awhile to keep the peace, so what? The big problem with constantly telling little lies is that eventually, with each lie, your word crumbles in the eyes of your spouse. Once a person’s word loses its worth, the respect one has for each other goes with it, as does the trust. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Think about a wall. Picture it in your mind. It’s tall and strong, made with whatever infallible material you want. There is no bringing down this wall because it has a solid foundation. This wall represents your marriage. Fibs are tiny cracks in the wall. From afar, you don’t even notice the cracks. You think the wall is strong and can withstand anything. Then, as you approach it to get a better look, you realize with every tiny fib, more and more of the wall cracks and loses stability. A big lie would create a big hole- you can clearly see the problem, and you can usually fix it, if the wall is worth saving. Try repairing a wall with thousands of small cracks. Not only is it close to impossible, but even if you are able to repair the cracks, you may begin to distrust the original integrity of the wall. You question its strength and ability to withstand hard conditions.This is what can happen in a marriage when someone is constantly lying to the other over petty things. It may not seem like it, but that person is slowly and painfully chipping away at the foundation of love, commitment, and truth that the marriage is meant to maintain. From afar, the relationship may look unbreakable, but in reality it is one major crack away from crumbling. Once it crumbles, it may be too difficult to collect all of the pieces to rebuild. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So, what can you do to deal with this issue? I believe the best way to handle this is to figure out why the lies are happening in the first place. This is a time for both people in the marriage to take accountability for what is happening. For me and my husband, the problem is twofold: I can overreact when things don’t go as planned, and my husband hates conflict. So, when an issue arises where he may have to tell me something that could cause a conflict, and deal with my drama, he may lie instead to pacify the situation. Once we figured this out, it meant that </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">both</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> of us had work to do. Now, I am sure it’s obvious, but it should be stated that my only expertise on this matter is that of my own marriage. But, I’ve spent plenty of girls’ nights with friends to know this is an issue in many marriages. There are times when it is still a problem in mine as well; however, it has exponentially improved once we figured out what the underlying issues were. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Lying is a slippery slope. It may seem like an easy fix in the moment, a way to avoid an argument or disappointment, but it creates a harmful lasting impact. The big problem with little lies is you may never know the damage you are causing. The slow breakage of trust and respect between you and your spouse, even when unintentional, can create a situation that can’t be fixed. If you are going to take one thing from this post, it’s this: Both people must accept responsibility and agree to work towards total honesty if lying is an issue in your marriage. Once you sit down and figure out why the lies are happening, you can start to rebuild the foundation of trust and love that brought you two together in the first place. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-13741312538816288042016-04-25T15:43:00.000-07:002016-04-25T15:43:10.382-07:00Seeds of Wisdom From My Father<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl-rnRiQ8tkfdcqOuWgjFgGbYsGHNkSiW4ml4-uqeJOzNdWFS7hXOp122IKyS2mdZ-Yc-5MT6ggrghTj_HfNVJrjN2K-DbjjkEAMndteGVnDqp4qjIu98V_LmIAjPOvWRn8o3jkC872uo/s1600/10378924_10102067474386780_5855816274745956566_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl-rnRiQ8tkfdcqOuWgjFgGbYsGHNkSiW4ml4-uqeJOzNdWFS7hXOp122IKyS2mdZ-Yc-5MT6ggrghTj_HfNVJrjN2K-DbjjkEAMndteGVnDqp4qjIu98V_LmIAjPOvWRn8o3jkC872uo/s320/10378924_10102067474386780_5855816274745956566_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> My father is the king of lectures and my whole life he has tried hard to instill values in myself and my siblings through sharing his thoughts, stories, and life experiences with us. At the time, we usually just nodded and said something to the effect of, “Yeah, sure, you’re right.” And then we moved on to something else. What I didn’t realize is that my Dad was actually planting little seeds that began to grow and flourish as I got older and my life became watered by experiences and maturity. Soon these seeds began to bloom into a garden of values, wisdom, and ideals that I live my life by. I could write a book on all that I have learned from my father up until this point, but for now, I wanted to share 5 of the most significant lessons that have impacted my life:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Live in the present</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">- This is something I heard all my life from my father, and it didn’t really start making sense until I was married and pregnant. My father has always talked about how every chapter in his life has had something to look forward to. It did not sadden him when his life shifted and changed, because he knew there was always something wonderful happening in his life, in that moment. Nothing upsets my father more than when instead of enjoying the moment, we are fretting about tasks that need to get done the next day. Time and time again, I have watched my Dad soak in a wonderful moment and internalize it to the point that he is able to recall it in a way that all of his senses are involved in the memory. This is not an easy thing to accomplish, but I know it’s so crucial to stop and enjoy the present before it flies by and becomes the distant past. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Visualize your dreams</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">- My Dad is a doctor, and one of the ways he kept himself motivated was he visualized himself walking into an exam room, in a white coat saying, “Hello I am Dr. Perez.” It sounds simple, but it wasn’t until I was in college when I truly understood how powerful visualization can be. I too developed a visual motivator. When things would get especially difficult, I would picture myself standing in front of a bright classroom full of smiling faces and I would say, “Hello class, I am your teacher, Ms. Perez.” It always got me through! I also used this when I was pregnant and preparing for childbirth. I wanted to have a natural childbirth, and I developed a visualization of laying on the hospital bed and the doctor placing my daughter on my chest and looking into her eyes. The visualization was so powerful that it would bring me to tears each time I used it, and even though I didn’t have a natural childbirth, it is what helped to keep me calm during my emergency c-section.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">There is always a solution</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">- My father has always said, “There is always a solution to the problem even if the solution is, there is no solution.” Thinking about this saying makes me laugh because it doesn’t really seem logical, but to the Perez kids- it makes perfect sense. What my father meant by this was that if there is a problem that you can solve, you will solve it. If it’s something that is out of your hands, than that is the solution, and we should not worry about it because there is nothing you can do about that problem,other than changing your outlook by making a paradigm shift, which leads me to my next point...</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Make a paradigm shift</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">- as a kid, I rolled my eyes every time I heard my Dad say, “Just make a paradigm shift.” because he said it a lot! I am so glad he did though, because this is one of my greatest strengths, my most favorite lesson to teach my students, and one of the first major values I hope to instill in my daughter. There are so many times in life when you are facing a problem or a challenge and the solution is out of your hands. When this happens instead of becoming a victim, you need to change your outlook on that problem. My dad would explain it as putting on a different set of glasses, or looking at the problem in a different way. Mastering the ability to make a paradigm shift can alter your life and empower you in ways you may never have realized. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">If something scares you, do it anyway</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">- My Dad lost his father when he was just 13 years old. He has always said that after his father died, nothing scared him- the worst had already occurred in his life. I truly think this sorrowful event was a catalyst for some of my father’s achievements in life and is an a major event I can point to when figuring out where his strength derives from. Failure can be scary, but my father has always pushed us to follow our passion even if we were afraid because true failure is when you don’t even try.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I can go on and on sharing things I have learned from my father. I am lucky to say I have a toolbox of values and wisdom that I often turn to when life gets tough. I know that as I continue to get older, more seeds from my father’s words will bloom into understanding. As I venture into adulthood, marriage and parenting, I know that I will continue to seek his help and words of encouragement for some of life’s biggest challenges. I can only hope seeing his children become passionate, confident, and successful adults is remuneration enough for everything he has given us. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSEu651LRZXH_HCmBAf9zqQlQr0TM9gbIPJPFy7z-eoWILmhyphenhyphentbzFB7CVpks_MSD80wIp1QZ_qfP3SZ-xS3i4EMBpxzXdvsuJ4HtKmEBhZ-X4DFC2g_X55PtQgXvWpNnplK1-jjkjplDw/s1600/IMG_1225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSEu651LRZXH_HCmBAf9zqQlQr0TM9gbIPJPFy7z-eoWILmhyphenhyphentbzFB7CVpks_MSD80wIp1QZ_qfP3SZ-xS3i4EMBpxzXdvsuJ4HtKmEBhZ-X4DFC2g_X55PtQgXvWpNnplK1-jjkjplDw/s320/IMG_1225.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-74252221044238496482016-04-22T07:54:00.001-07:002016-04-22T07:54:11.451-07:00Not a Lazy Girl <p id="docs-internal-guid-006f7a06-3e74-970c-fee3-7ab5426c7f6f" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" dir="ltr"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; background-color: transparent;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-006f7a06-3e74-ffa0-a4a4-053a259618f4" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; background-color: transparent;">A hack is a “clever solution to a tricky problem.” Those of us who frequent social media are all too familiar with </span>the plethora of articles and videos that claim to show us a multitude of ways to make things easier for ourselves, also known as “Life Hacks.” These hacks come in all forms. I am a personal fan of beauty hacks, especially those that help me deal with my thick, curly hair, and I quite enjoy watching videos and flipping through the slide shows of different ways to tame my mane. Yet all too recently, I have seen one too many articles with titles like, “Beauty Hacks Every Lazy Girl Should Know.” Since when is a person who wants to find a clever solution for a problem considered “lazy?” </span></p><br><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" dir="ltr"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; background-color: transparent;">I would not consider myself lazy. My beauty routine is quick and simple, because it is not something that I care a lot about; however, my desire to find ways to make applying makeup and doing my hair easier should not equate to laziness. Let me get this straight-as a teacher I work 60 hours a week. This does not include time spent on the weekend planning and grading. I run after school clubs and am involved in my local school union. I am a mother of an energetic 7 month old and a wife who likes to spend time with her husband when she can. I also have friends who I try and see now and again, and family who fills my time as well. Yet because I don’t want to spend a long amount of time on my hair and makeup, I am given the label, “lazy.” </span></p><br><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" dir="ltr"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; background-color: transparent;">Now, I am not the type of woman who is trying to sound better than others because I do not spend a lot of time on my beauty routine, and I definitely do not judge women who do. In this day and age, I do not believe makeup or lack thereof is an indication of one’s feminist values. I know some pretty badass feminists who always wear a full face of makeup, just like I know some who don’t even own any lip gloss. </span></p><br><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" dir="ltr"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; background-color: transparent;">The point I am trying to make is simple- don’t call women “lazy girls,” because they don’t want to spend a lot of time on a beauty routine. Stop indoctrinating women through social media, advertisements, and fashion, leading them to believe that there is a right and a wrong amount of time to spend on their looks. The beauty of beauty is that it is multifaceted and not based on one set of standards-at least that’s how it should be. Unfortunately, articles like the ones I am referring to create, even if doing so inadvertently, a “right” and a “wrong” way of doing things. The word “lazy,” has a negative connotation. It describes someone who spends less time and effort on something than they should.</span></p><br><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.66px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; background-color: transparent;">So, I say to all the ladies out there, if you want to spend an hour on your makeup-do it! If you want to spend 1 minute-cool! Neither of those are the wrong way as long as you are happy with how you look and feel. Don’t let a silly article or video make you feel like you should be spending more time (and money) on your daily routine if that’s not who you are. Keep doing what you are doing, and the next time you come across an article targeted for “lazy girls,” on your newsfeed read it with a grain of salt, or just keep scrolling. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-6825024977954974582016-03-23T06:10:00.000-07:002016-03-23T06:10:26.561-07:00The Thing About Girlfriends...<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-57c678f3-a035-b248-6b5c-af20d7865300" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Relationships makes the world go ‘round. Take away all the materialistic items in your life and all you have left are the relationships you have cultivated with others. Besides my family and husband, my favorite people in my life are my girlfriends. When we get together, the stresses of my life seem to melt away. It’s an amazing and beautiful thing to be friends with women who you have gone through some of the most memorable moments of your life. When you have found a true friend- time will only make things better between you. Just as I have matured, grown, and changed, so have my girlfriends and so has our friendship. And even though I still feel like a teenager when I am with them, there are still some major ways our interactions have changed (for the better) over the years:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Call each other to talk about a crazy sleepless night at a club and ask advice about boys</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Call each other to talk about a crazy sleepless night with a newborn and ask advice about sleep training</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Discuss the pros and cons of “bad boys”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Discuss the pros and cons of investment property</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Shop for club tops, dresses, and heels that made us feel sexy</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Shop for suit jackets and shoes with a reasonable heel that make us feel responsible</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Help each other meet cute guys who would eventually break our hearts</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Help each other network with people who can take us forward in our careers</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Pose for pictures at prom</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Pose for pictures at weddings</span></div>
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<tr style="height: 0px;"><td style="border-bottom: solid #ffffff 1px; border-left: solid #ffffff 1px; border-right: solid #ffffff 1px; border-top: solid #ffffff 1px; padding: 7px 7px 7px 7px; vertical-align: top;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Get together to play with a new puppy</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Get together to welcome a new baby</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Plan sleepovers and house parties</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Plan bachelorette parties and baby showers</span></div>
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<tr style="height: 0px;"><td style="border-bottom: solid #ffffff 1px; border-left: solid #ffffff 1px; border-right: solid #ffffff 1px; border-top: solid #ffffff 1px; padding: 7px 7px 7px 7px; vertical-align: top;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Pregame with shots while getting ready together and go out to a club around 11pm</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Finish a bottle or two of wine while talking and catching up and head home around 11 pm</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">These are just a few of the ways my relationships with my girlfriends have evolved over the years. Still, there is one thing that has always remained the same, and that is our support for one another. Even as teenagers, we didn’t spend a lot of our time hating on each other. Our goal was to have fun together and enjoy each others' company, and as we got older that goal changed to raising each other up and being supportive of each others' goals and dreams. Today, my girlfriends are the first people I deliver good news to after family, because they know everything I’ve gone through and how far I have come. We are proud of accomplishments and continue to push and encourage each other to go further than we ever thought we could. Being in committed friendships for over a decade takes work, and the relationships we have forged over the years are definitely not perfect. We still argue and get mad with each other. We may go long periods of time without seeing each other or communicating, but when we come back together we pick up where we left off, as if no time has passed at all.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1bxTOkapAYDc-OtupWJg4WIU5o51M0xlQWDjGSEFfdWcVAhO2EQUB-_jp4VeW6mY2T6Il2UU8cJeWocYn-iqYbhpPrPC2-1LRbppo9_7hFPDRjJSXlC_yisz4QQyXayskpVDUHuIuo9o/s1600/gfs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1bxTOkapAYDc-OtupWJg4WIU5o51M0xlQWDjGSEFfdWcVAhO2EQUB-_jp4VeW6mY2T6Il2UU8cJeWocYn-iqYbhpPrPC2-1LRbppo9_7hFPDRjJSXlC_yisz4QQyXayskpVDUHuIuo9o/s400/gfs.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So, if I can offer a piece of advice, it’s this: when looking back at your friendships, any woman that you’re still friends with should be someone who has continually lifted your spirits, not brought you down. She should be someone who has always been excited about your success. There is no room for jealousy in a lasting friendship. My girlfriends and I are all at different points in our life; some of us are married, some still single, some in long term relationships. Some of us have kids, some don’t. Some of us have college and graduate degrees. You can make a long list of how we all have grown in different directions from where we started as teenagers, but one thing we all have in common is each other. </span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">You see, the thing about girlfriends is- even though time will change your relationship by leaps and bounds, if you continually celebrate each other and support one another, you will always have a friendship worth working for. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-12036429967697725592016-03-14T18:39:00.001-07:002016-03-14T18:39:35.838-07:00Haiku of Motherhood Series: Breastfeeding<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-ebf28b06-5c20-3332-a52b-19d3221a6034" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The first major challenge I experienced as a new mother was learning the ropes of breastfeeding. My daughter was born 3 weeks early and was not a very strong nurser. She also has a tongue and lip tie which made it hard for her to get a good latch. Luckily I had a good supply from the beginning and between her nursing and supplemental bottles of breast milk, I have been able to avoid giving my daughter formula, which has been a major personal goal of mine. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Eventually, the nursing sessions happened less and less and she was given more bottles of breast milk. This really upset me at first, because I wanted to have an exclusive nursing relationship, but she just couldn’t enough milk while nursing, and the daily struggle was taking a toll on my mental and emotional health. Bottle feeding my daughter for the majority of the day proved to be the best move for our family and made for a much happier baby. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The following Haiku are based on my experiences throughout my breastfeeding journey. My daughter is currently 5 ½ months and I know I still have a whole half-year to get through, but writing these Haiku have been a sort of therapy for me, and I am now excited to continue breastfeeding. I know my goal of a year is possible!</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I hope those reading this who breastfeed their babies will be able to relate to the moments-good and bad-mentioned in these poems. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">What are some breastfeeding topics you would add to the list?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Breastfeeding is hard</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">But it is the best for her</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So I will nurse on!</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Nipple pain for days</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIk6X8ukrKXeRyAw-iFa83f4fhZaL8cTPOcLzQJUF1_8nNfyuWy15CJO5PMQ-rDjVfPjhyb8j1KIRDt1uzGQeeS7Rci5d0D8IULLht0bPMpT89zj3voQj17ZXH2-qU4rIca8T1fAIVcbw/s1600/IMG_3918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIk6X8ukrKXeRyAw-iFa83f4fhZaL8cTPOcLzQJUF1_8nNfyuWy15CJO5PMQ-rDjVfPjhyb8j1KIRDt1uzGQeeS7Rci5d0D8IULLht0bPMpT89zj3voQj17ZXH2-qU4rIca8T1fAIVcbw/s320/IMG_3918.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Baby has a shallow latch</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">How will I survive?</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"You smell good," I'm told</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"It's Eau de Breast milk..." I say</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"...would you like a spritz?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Two o’clock-am</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Baby cries for Mama<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">'s </span>milk</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I stumble from bed</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">When <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">she falls as<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">leep</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a nursing session</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I feel complete</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span> </span></span></span></span>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Made it three whole months</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Now onto my goal of six</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">After that, a year!</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Nursing on the couch</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">She pauses and looks at me</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A treasured moment</span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Seedy breast milk poop</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Exploding up baby’s back</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WYjNbuKTpn_aW3aGM3m0EFOguGlsbSYRuAi3i8EF_HYqbwZt4Ak4aNsPW5yXYcIrbfSOuRafq1gW1hbi8NQmuzNEU50Mm5C08ezzPyCAz-A6hWBA6PlEdkpuQ_n8qCJHVdYf7VS-2s8/s1600/IMG_3716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WYjNbuKTpn_aW3aGM3m0EFOguGlsbSYRuAi3i8EF_HYqbwZt4Ak4aNsPW5yXYcIrbfSOuRafq1gW1hbi8NQmuzNEU50Mm5C08ezzPyCAz-A6hWBA6PlEdkpuQ_n8qCJHVdYf7VS-2s8/s320/IMG_3716.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Third outfit today</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Nursing in public</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Suddenly all eyes on me</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">They don’t understand</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Pump at 3 am</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Must maintain my milk supply</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Even though she sleeps</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Nursing cravings <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ruin</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My plans to<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> lose baby weight</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mo</span></span>re of me to love</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Engorged and in pain</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Looking for a place to nurse</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I may spring a leak!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Pumping while at work</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Not as easy as it sounds</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I can do it all</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">8 ounces of milk</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Spilled on the kitchen counter</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9bz218fopeulls0OgIxBG-RSO-sk0VumwNDSGsCeZwvq2Hhw3jiWxJuu8_Cy0nO5f76EG7Gy2t4WyAwihr0K3lZBq2QEy9Ow-ojtG4du-1Jg0yJpd6dW3HIcjvBlXvlgZZbd4dgG6G4/s1600/IMG_3112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9bz218fopeulls0OgIxBG-RSO-sk0VumwNDSGsCeZwvq2Hhw3jiWxJuu8_Cy0nO5f76EG7Gy2t4WyAwihr0K3lZBq2QEy9Ow-ojtG4du-1Jg0yJpd6dW3HIcjvBlXvlgZZbd4dgG6G4/s320/IMG_3112.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Waste of liquid gold </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">An exclusively </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Breastfed baby doesn’t mean</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I can’t use bottles</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I wan<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">t to quit</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I look at my little girl</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">deserves the best</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-19522041730904274252016-03-13T10:22:00.002-07:002016-03-13T10:22:32.532-07:00Breaking the Silence: My Struggle With Postpartum Anxiety<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-fc9b1346-5d91-f632-18d2-60a9be2e213f" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9idQrsjWUJEvoGVqxTWtzLrAgKo3WpokbrfWUEr24qBjGmleZ_BovUZsTf0dCpYMN-uQEgRZDxVFWwKpkGSDNm5Eaf_Oqb5woQ5psE7sRcN6A6_-5guyy1EZKmjvvNoh4RcqsZ2ORBK8/s1600/IMG_2689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9idQrsjWUJEvoGVqxTWtzLrAgKo3WpokbrfWUEr24qBjGmleZ_BovUZsTf0dCpYMN-uQEgRZDxVFWwKpkGSDNm5Eaf_Oqb5woQ5psE7sRcN6A6_-5guyy1EZKmjvvNoh4RcqsZ2ORBK8/s200/IMG_2689.JPG" width="150" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Postpartum mood disorders are more common than people think, yet it is something that isn’t openly talked about. I myself have been battling with postpartum anxiety since my daughter’s birth in September, and it has taken me since then to feel strong enough to talk about it.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I know many of you are thinking, “You’re a new mom, you’re going to feel anxious! That’s just a part of being a parent.” Postpartum anxiety is not your run-of-the-mill, new mom anxiety. It’s a whole different kind of monster. It's a kind of anxiety that keeps you from being able to sleep even when you're the most tired you've ever been in your life. It’s a moment of sheer panic that will bring you out of your deepest REM cycle, leaving you shaking and breathless. It's a non-stop scrolling of upsetting thoughts, images, and worst case scenario "what ifs." It's a rock in the bottom of your stomach that just won't go away. It's the bitter taste of irrational anger that turns into mean comments directed towards the ones you love. It’s a vice that holds you in a place of fear, making it nearly impossible to leave your home. It’s a shiver that runs up and down your spine, and an ache that sits on your chest. It is one of these things alone and all of these things at the same time, and even in the joyful moments, it is always present. Although you are smiling and laughing with family and friends, it’s a cold hand around your throat, reminding you that this is a monster you cannot escape.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Lt5tmqYd2gxnE66zzthWpKsNTuhTUu0St96H3CWHzwckdyhf750p2QOsFsWjufsAUAWC4kldUkTDDCX4HEyszGlykN_Fw7PUQbPKtzbDgQQUISSY8PQ9_1iq8MN7p2gy2bry8Jo9E08/s1600/IMG_3031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Lt5tmqYd2gxnE66zzthWpKsNTuhTUu0St96H3CWHzwckdyhf750p2QOsFsWjufsAUAWC4kldUkTDDCX4HEyszGlykN_Fw7PUQbPKtzbDgQQUISSY8PQ9_1iq8MN7p2gy2bry8Jo9E08/s200/IMG_3031.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The worst part about it is, you begin to believe this is just your new normal. You begin to convince yourself that you must be a terrible parent, a weak woman, a bad person, because no one ever talked about a fear that would be so overwhelming and unexplainable it would leave you sobbing over the kitchen sink. Obviously you were just not made to be a mother. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwLt1lQ3oNkK0QGDEb31sCqeaU7XiwFSN52NCHCY7fZB_OdYqtpqHbk8cIM9iy55RoK6uWZH4ZXfJbOdnPyTZB5kWBsbaK3KzS7ATQ8H8PreB8sVzVVeM7S5fXiCBVpKmBVVY4Y53okPM/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwLt1lQ3oNkK0QGDEb31sCqeaU7XiwFSN52NCHCY7fZB_OdYqtpqHbk8cIM9iy55RoK6uWZH4ZXfJbOdnPyTZB5kWBsbaK3KzS7ATQ8H8PreB8sVzVVeM7S5fXiCBVpKmBVVY4Y53okPM/s200/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="150" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Then one day, in a moment of utter hopelessness, you decide to talk about it. You call a friend, or text your brother, or sob to your husband, and they all tell you that it’s </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">not</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> normal to be feeling this way. They suggest you see a doctor. But most importantly, they assure you that everything will be okay, and for a moment the weight of the monster doesn’t feel as heavy, because now other people are carrying it with you. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This has been my experience with PPA, and I know it is not an experience I alone have faced. After speaking with my obstetrician, seeing a psychologist, and going on a low dose of (breastfeeding safe) medicine I have begun to feel a huge difference. I still struggle daily with anxiety, and I know I will for a while, but I have the tools and resources now to help myself. I am beginning to feel like myself again and have been able to develop some coping skills for when things get particularly difficult. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Even though I know what I have experienced is not my fault, I can’t help but struggle with feelings of shame and guilt. I recognize that this is something in my life that I should not be ashamed of, and I continue to work on re-mediating those feelings by talking about it to my doctor. For this reason especially, I have decided to share my story so it no longer is a secret I must bear. I hope women who are reading this, and may be experiencing the same thing understand:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZ0rYUqJ6JAlzMojdTnzWi3ooUNybPRHiBO2jZAd49-Bb0EGazELHe1cwtaWI-ZyEuDGd18tmTPQm1ra9P3R60pl7jZ4jPjNYP1aOLzaHfULp-mUhZMNFGxAiKILFfk2bFfQ9OG5lQjE/s1600/IMG_3323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZ0rYUqJ6JAlzMojdTnzWi3ooUNybPRHiBO2jZAd49-Bb0EGazELHe1cwtaWI-ZyEuDGd18tmTPQm1ra9P3R60pl7jZ4jPjNYP1aOLzaHfULp-mUhZMNFGxAiKILFfk2bFfQ9OG5lQjE/s200/IMG_3323.JPG" width="150" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">1. Anything you may be feeling is an emotion that is yours and yours alone, no one can tell you to stop feeling that way or “snap out of it.” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">2. This is not your fault and you could not have done anything differently to avoid it! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">3. This is not forever, get the help you need- and soon you will be able to look back on this time as a rough patch in your postpartum journey.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Most importantly, I am breaking my silence for my daughter, who one day may be a mother too. I want her to grow into motherhood in a world where mothers are supported and not shamed for struggling with postpartum life. It is not a change that will happen overnight, but maybe if more women begin to share their stories of the struggles and </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">strife of womanhood- they will no longer be seen as experiences of “the other,” rather the moments that many, if not all women, will go through at some point in their lives. Maybe in time the shame, guilt, and secrecy will be no more. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">If you or someone you know is struggling with postpartum mood disorders, or if you want to know more information, feel free to visit some of the following websites that I have found particularly helpful:</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.postpartumprogress.com/how-many-women-get-postpartum-depression-the-statistics-on-ppd" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://www.postpartumprogress.com/how-many-women-get-postpartum-depression-the-statistics-on-ppd</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.1800ppdmoms.org/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://www.1800ppdmoms.org/</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.postpartum.net/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">http://www.postpartum.net/</span></a><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-45348085476691463472016-03-10T09:27:00.002-08:002016-03-10T09:27:44.047-08:00Bring Trump to Chicago<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTg1-6dQ2wnyYI4yhmVvoHxsWi3VHmoQGSza0BHnDwaTTpLD07JcCt8x60YDVENqp8AKKHqfwyvS4QUKZgUlNYFzaCoUQyrmnWdogENvfW54LhmcWM01lKEcze3bdyDOrSsDVxg_mNkg/s1600/Chicago-muni-flag.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTg1-6dQ2wnyYI4yhmVvoHxsWi3VHmoQGSza0BHnDwaTTpLD07JcCt8x60YDVENqp8AKKHqfwyvS4QUKZgUlNYFzaCoUQyrmnWdogENvfW54LhmcWM01lKEcze3bdyDOrSsDVxg_mNkg/s320/Chicago-muni-flag.png" width="320" /></a></div>
I am a South side-Chicago-City Girl through and through. I was raised in Chicago proper and I currently reside in a south side neighborhood, just minutes from where I grew up. I take great pride in my city. We are a people who will stand up in the face of a misguided mayor and demand for something better. We have culture dripping from out city streets. Every few blocks you will come across a neighborhood that is different from the one you just passed. We fight for student and teacher rights, and will literally stop traffic to make sure our voices are heard. We are not a fearful people.<br />
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So, why are we afraid of a little man called Donald Trump? I know his big mouth and hateful following is something we do not want in our city. But we must not forget, this is OUR city. We are the ones who have the power in this situation. We can welcome Trump into our home and show him with our peaceful protests or through an empty pavilion that we will not stand for what he represents. By signing a <a href="http://petitions.moveon.org/sign/cancel-trumps-rally-at.fb51?source=s.icn.fb" target="_blank">petition</a> to cancel his <a href="https://www.eventbrite.com/e/donald-j-trump-in-chicago-il-tickets-22576886074?aff=efbneb" target="_blank">rally</a> we are only stifling ourselves. What is it that you want people to know about Trump? Now is the time to write it on a poster board or blast it from a megaphone.<br />
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I would rather see a TV spot about how Trump could not be heard over the cacophony of Chicagoans who showed up to the rally to protest his potential candidacy. Or how he gave a speech to an almost empty pavilion. By canceling the rally we are saying, "Trump is too much for us to handle," we are saying, "We are afraid."<br />
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No movement that matters comes without struggle. I for one am in no way an advocate for violence, but I believe that if we uphold ourselves to the standards of the grassroots movements of history that have come before us, we can show Trump and his followers that Chicago will not sit silently in the face of racism, misogyny, and xenophobia. We are the city of strong shoulders, let us not use that strength to push away the challenge of Trump, rather use those shoulders to stand on so everyone across the nation can hear what we think.<br />
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Bring Trump to Chicago- show up and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1060752830629598/" target="_blank">protest</a>, or don't show up at all. Either way, we must show him, his hateful platform has no power in our city. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-84714841933841252102016-03-09T18:50:00.002-08:002016-03-09T18:50:24.819-08:00Haiku of Motherhood Series: Pregnancy<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-1ebb786c-5e60-63c0-aa4e-2c354ccf0150" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I was very lucky to have a pretty smooth pregnancy. In fact, I quite enjoyed being pregnant; watching my belly grow, feeling the kicks, hearing her heartbeat. For me, it was a pretty magical time, but it wasn’t without its bothersome moments. Although no woman's pregnancy is exactly the same, there is still so many shared experiences among women who have been pregnant. I hope you enjoy the following Haiku. I hope they make you smile, laugh, and (if you are no longer pregnant) remind you of a special time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The first ultrasound</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4IKR_X3CKuKJRqNwvYXvDdDjJY3zDy49FnjydMXj5IlPUwL6klpmnUF2J-gz4izgaXNv61AGFYW7U44DY8O28BXq1WDmjckni9DxdydDZZysIBvX6F6R7HjJsWc7_vDzG5LCB73pDQKI/s1600/IMG_1897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4IKR_X3CKuKJRqNwvYXvDdDjJY3zDy49FnjydMXj5IlPUwL6klpmnUF2J-gz4izgaXNv61AGFYW7U44DY8O28BXq1WDmjckni9DxdydDZZysIBvX6F6R7HjJsWc7_vDzG5LCB73pDQKI/s320/IMG_1897.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My most precious grain of rice</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A beautiful sight </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Someone lied about</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Morning sickness because I </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Feel sick all day long</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Our baby’s heartbeat</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We heard over the Doppler</span></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The sweetest music</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Not really showing</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4-OtypVIB-fMiKVkv7NbNdiFK1eH4ArpnMeEJMROBRPzTuuBJCf7Q4XOtL4musLNKqBVfzK020gaRKzBUKWFm48vwWVGTQxUrDa6ZCfqq9M9mq2SlSUl_HQLpgsA3x0RhqyDLeHbVyo/s1600/IMG_2542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4-OtypVIB-fMiKVkv7NbNdiFK1eH4ArpnMeEJMROBRPzTuuBJCf7Q4XOtL4musLNKqBVfzK020gaRKzBUKWFm48vwWVGTQxUrDa6ZCfqq9M9mq2SlSUl_HQLpgsA3x0RhqyDLeHbVyo/s320/IMG_2542.JPG" width="213" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Yet, my jeans no longer fit</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Time for some new clothes</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Cravings are no fun</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">When they hit you all at once</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I must eat it all</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Swelling all over</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Fingers, toes, and baby bump</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Stretch marks appearing</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Strangers touch my bump</span></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It is not a sign of luck</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwecKk6cicDz4XYDjk8tnI_lsqRBZY4YfDHr3_TwqQD8nPS50FRz4ke9NTplA2a2h28PQW7Fp7ur9LQ_S9vSWxcnj_xU4BgFFtEUa6DVu3KLudc4XlxfR2I97PqhXi8FAKnTpE0F4q-B0/s1600/IMG_2011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwecKk6cicDz4XYDjk8tnI_lsqRBZY4YfDHr3_TwqQD8nPS50FRz4ke9NTplA2a2h28PQW7Fp7ur9LQ_S9vSWxcnj_xU4BgFFtEUa6DVu3KLudc4XlxfR2I97PqhXi8FAKnTpE0F4q-B0/s320/IMG_2011.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It is just plain rude</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Baby kicks and rolls</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Like a little alien</span></span></span><br />
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Living inside me</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Wherever I go</span></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My baby is always here</span></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Right under my heart</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Shopping for a crib,</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Changing table, and rocker</span></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">All our money gone</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Don’t you dare ask me</span></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">If I am carrying twins</span></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Unless you want death</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Dying to find out</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9kfacHkCoUE/VV5PKlAsehI/AAAAAAAAJy0/7PntU4Hunjw/s1600/2015-05-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9kfacHkCoUE/VV5PKlAsehI/AAAAAAAAJy0/7PntU4Hunjw/s320/2015-05-21.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Will I use the name I picked</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">For a boy or girl?</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Lights out for Mama</span></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Means party time for baby</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">What’s up with that, Kid?</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Heartburn has me like</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A fire-breathing dragon</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Please pass me the tums</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Filled with emotions</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Waves of joy and bursts of fear-</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">What a wild ride </span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-12784624205235144232016-03-08T15:17:00.001-08:002016-03-08T15:41:13.606-08:00Haiku of Motherhood Series: Babymaking <div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-b1c27486-5864-d8a9-fcb2-7f1d16f14fe6" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The first set of Haiku in my series focuses on the excitement and at times heartbreak of trying to have a baby. It did not take my husband and I very long to get pregnant, and for that I am grateful. Still the short amount of time we were trying, I remember the near psychosis I brought myself to, wanting to be pregnant so badly. Once I decided I wanted to have a baby, there was nothing else I could think about. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So, I did what any book worm would do, I read and read and read until I felt like an expert on all things relating to baby making and pregnancy. I drove my husband crazy! One night after work, in an effort to take my mind off things (and give the hubby a night off of baby-making drama) I went out for drinks with friends. That was the same night I found out I was pregnant! I will never forget that night-the start of the crazy roller coaster of Motherhood, and once I got on, there was no going back. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I hope you enjoy this Haiku series, it reads as a sort of narrative. I know there are many men and women out there who can relate to many of the things I write about. For those of you out there who are in the middle of your own baby making narrative, I pass on good vibes and baby dust!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRv9Ab2t1tJlxA8hYp61lho4u-fEAxEcPivsxW9DoZ3BC86-3knl3h_8ZzBG1XTIoGehdx_9m7KlkwH4apsG4Q-D3yb4EA59fWU3a8-LwVlDmk8gRPCzkJHiyPNMKHtBy8TVC9eF1B-tk/s1600/blog1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRv9Ab2t1tJlxA8hYp61lho4u-fEAxEcPivsxW9DoZ3BC86-3knl3h_8ZzBG1XTIoGehdx_9m7KlkwH4apsG4Q-D3yb4EA59fWU3a8-LwVlDmk8gRPCzkJHiyPNMKHtBy8TVC9eF1B-tk/s320/blog1.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I woke up one day</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">With the burning desire</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">To become a Mom</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Deciding to make</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A baby is both scary</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">And so exciting</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Read every book</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Follow every single blog</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Become an expert</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Temping everyday</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">At the crack of dawn to get</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Most accurate temp</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUHEw6_EzeJgc6_pVZ0jJ5xfhuCNueuGG7JK3WIgArciibYAm2Fohnftwza-I1tZtmM0bz72axpVwrEhHjfDQ7DS__8rTp_AFVMxmOTwoWW1HWgWfAortRB91EtFM4WVUm2g5ELE22qOQ/s1600/blog2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUHEw6_EzeJgc6_pVZ0jJ5xfhuCNueuGG7JK3WIgArciibYAm2Fohnftwza-I1tZtmM0bz72axpVwrEhHjfDQ7DS__8rTp_AFVMxmOTwoWW1HWgWfAortRB91EtFM4WVUm2g5ELE22qOQ/s320/blog2.jpg" width="281" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The body signals</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The time when you are fertile</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Egg whites is the key</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Ovulation time</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Let’s do the deed to make a</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Mini you or me</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Baby clothes in stores</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A cruel tease to those of us</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">With an empty womb</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Legs up in the air</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Let gravity do its job</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Husband laughs at me</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Visits from Aunt Flo</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZm3tSZ5-UssNmnhM8ug50wNzNj_gvcfBhdLqI8hyfI_hkJo81I5JxmF8f0PXwaROKlTuMRzIIwJQcM22ziVLV5R0lmHyHm39Ja0gTj2XjQihqKVRaPM0oEj6gxpOGrxKKaVRRPhWBQDc/s1600/blog+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZm3tSZ5-UssNmnhM8ug50wNzNj_gvcfBhdLqI8hyfI_hkJo81I5JxmF8f0PXwaROKlTuMRzIIwJQcM22ziVLV5R0lmHyHm39Ja0gTj2XjQihqKVRaPM0oEj6gxpOGrxKKaVRRPhWBQDc/s320/blog+3.jpg" width="250" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Used to bring a great relief</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Now it brings me tears</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">As the month goes by</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We play the waiting game of</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Baby making chance</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This month is the one</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He assures me as we lay</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I pray he is right</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Dollar store pee sticks</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Work just as well, so I buy</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Every test they have</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Testing twice a day</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Driving myself so crazy</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vOicHoTlrPvIDaSm-yedh5ZhSgWfhz6j7NMbs5ZU4kMafaqmFAcC0uconFDEC41g8bV8bImmsnL22QQJHPogJ0qT3Pv_xcyGhxkNj0cvM0ycqRL6JPx0j31BLgpQLwPF1JsYCArU6jU/s1600/blog4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vOicHoTlrPvIDaSm-yedh5ZhSgWfhz6j7NMbs5ZU4kMafaqmFAcC0uconFDEC41g8bV8bImmsnL22QQJHPogJ0qT3Pv_xcyGhxkNj0cvM0ycqRL6JPx0j31BLgpQLwPF1JsYCArU6jU/s200/blog4.jpeg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Imagining lines</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Hard apple cider</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">With friends at happy hour</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Trying to relax</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The faintest pink line</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Appeared one night after work</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Can’t believe my eyes!</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-48077678419431053022016-03-08T11:58:00.002-08:002016-03-13T09:42:53.968-07:00Haiku of Motherhood Series <div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-d096aece-57ca-908c-aae6-6f29dc8fcbbc" style="line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Haiku is a traditional poem containing 17 syllables total, in 3 lines, 5,7,5 respectively. Traditional Haiku is usually written about nature, the elements, and seasons. Reading and writing (especially writing) Haiku is a favorite pastime of mine, because I love the challenge of trying to fit a lot of meaning into a little amount of words.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">So, I have decided to try my hand at writing (non-traditional) Haiku, centering around the </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">nature</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> of motherhood. In fact, I will be writing a Blog Series, focusing on a specific aspect of motherhood in each. I hope you enjoy reading the Haiku as much as I enjoyed writing them. Some are meant to be funny, some touching, but all are honest and based on my own personal experiences.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My intention, as always, is to write about situations and events that will unite people, mothers in this case, through our shared experiences. I look forward to sharing my Haiku with you!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Below is a preview of the series, as well as a sneak peak Haiku:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">First in series: Baby Making</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Second in series: Pregnancy</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Third in series: Newborn, New Mama</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Final in series: Breastfeeding</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Sneak Peek-------></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "syncopate"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Peeing on a stick</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "syncopate"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Like playing the lottery</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: magenta; font-family: "syncopate"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Pink lines</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "syncopate"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> mean jackpot!</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-8466670901356006722016-03-02T13:54:00.001-08:002016-03-02T13:54:32.749-08:00When Blessings Feel Like Burdens<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-649c00d7-3948-3e07-997e-d85901aa15b2" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It’s 5:45 pm on a Friday night and I’m driving home after an excruciatingly long day. The stress from the week has finally reached a boiling point and hot tears start falling down my face. It’s just been one of those weeks, and I’m on the ledge in danger of falling into a deep pit of self pity. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I start thinking about the fact that I stayed at school for an hour after the last bell to grade student work and I still had a pile waiting for me when I returned. I reflected on the school week. A week I wanted to forget. I broke up two fights, my eighth period’s misogynistic comments forced me to tears (in the privacy of the bathroom), my computer broke, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of being overworked and under-appreciated. I planned out the following week in my mind, which included several after-school meetings. I thought about how my last after-school meeting ran so long that by the time I got home, my daughter was tucked in her bed, asleep, even though she didn’t see me at all. My chest ached because I was pulled into a last-minute meeting at school and missed a pump session. I thought I had made up for it later that day, but the lasting effects were starting to hit me as sharp pains shot through my chest. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The to-do list for the weekend started scrolling through my mind. The ACT class I had to teach Saturday morning was not yet planned for, the shopping list I had for my daughter’s upcoming baptism reception kept growing, yet the RSVP’s were rolling in slowly and I knew I would have to start tracking down the invitees to get a final count.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I couldn’t remember the last time I had alone time with my husband, and even though he slept next to me every night, he felt a million miles away. The idea of planning a date night seemed ridiculous in the light of everything we had going on. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">In the short ride between school and home I had worked myself into a full-on anxiety meltdown. I kept telling myself that it was impossible to do it all: mother, teacher (both during the week and on the weekend), wife, club moderator, union member (who is in the middle of contract negotiations),caretaker, party planner...and as I climbed the steps to my house I was ready to throw in the towel. I was ready to declare to my husband that I QUIT! Adulting was not for me, and I was over all of it. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My husband knew I was having an off week, as I had complained about it over the last few days, so he didn’t question my sullen silence as I came into the house and prepared to nurse my daughter. She was hungry and a bit fussy, so I hurried to my seat on the couch and arranged myself. As he handed her to me, she smiled as she knew what was happening- dinner! She nursed and I felt a surge of relief as the engorgement that was ailing me before began to subside as did my anxiety. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Over the course of the weekend I began to realize I had it all wrong, I had so much to be grateful for! I was looking at my life -- and the things that were making me upset -- as a problem. In reality, all of those “problems” were things I had prayed for, wished for, and worked for. It was at that point that I saw that I am not in fact burdened, but I am blessed. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I thought more and more about why I was unhappy, and I began to see that I was allowing the challenges I was facing overshadow the fact that I have so many things going right in my life. I have a job that, although is a major stressor at times, is meaningful and gives me a purpose every day. I have the privilege of being on the team that is building a fair and comprehensive union contract that will benefit many students and teachers who enter the school doors even once I am no longer there.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I have a huge family! And yes, that can mean that parties and gatherings can get pretty expensive and are hectic to plan, but it’s only because everyone wants to be a part of the celebration. How can I be upset with that? There will always be opportunities to make more money, but making memories is much more important. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Of course, there is my daughter. The greatest gift I have ever been given, and I have the ability to give her the best form of nourishment and immunities through breastfeeding. I made a goal for myself to exclusively breastfeed my daughter for the first year of her life, and we are five and half months into it, and I am determined to make it to twelve months. I stand by the statement, “Breast is Best,” and I am grateful that I am able to provide what is best for my daughter. There are so many times when I would rather be in bed than attached to a pump at 3 am. Numerous times when nursing her is painful. I have dealt with the stares and eye rolls of strangers when I’ve nursed in public. There have been times when I can’t get to her or my pump soon enough and I ache or leak through my blouse. But it all continues to be worth it because it is for my daughter.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">As I continued to go over what I am grateful for, I started to feel lighter. There is still so much in my life that can cause me stress, but I have come to see that it is only because I care so much about it all--and that’s not a bad thing! As my identity expands to include more and more roles, I get that there may be some growing pains associated with each. I have to trust that the skills, knowledge, and experience needed to be successful in those roles will also shift, grow, and change. To not have change is to be stagnant, and that is definitely something I don’t want. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">By the end of the weekend, I was determined to make a shift in my thinking. I spoke to my husband about what I had been on my mind. I shared my frustrations and guilt. To top it off, in all of this, never did I even ask him how he was doing. Why did I think I was the only one struggling? My guilt became heavier. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I decided we needed make a point everyday to be positive and grateful. So, we agreed to do one little thing everyday that would not only give us time to connect, but also help us to see the blessings in our lives. We set a timer on our phones, to everyday, share with each other something we are grateful for. Something specific to the events of that day. It can be something the other person did, or something related to work or family-anything really. To hold ourselves accountable we made three rules:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We BOTH have to do it, even on the bad days. If there is ever a time when we are not together at the end of the day, we must share our gratitudes in a phone call or text message.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It must be specific- not a vague cop-out statement like, “I’m grateful for my husband.” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It must be genuine gratitude ( this one was mostly for me since I can get pretty sarcastic when I’m in a bad mood)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I know it may seem like a silly thing, but so far it has made such an improvement in my life and in my marriage. It forces me to stop and think about all the good moments I had throughout the day that can easily be overlooked, and it’s an opportunity to spend a genuine and intimate moment with my husband. It can be said over dinner, or during my daughter’s bath time. It can be just a statement or it can open the conversation to a story from the day I want to share. Eventually, this will be a tradition we will extend to our daughter and future children. We’ve only been doing it for a short time, but I believe it’s something that will last because it makes us feel good and it’s not hard to keep up.</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">As I conclude my thoughts, I have to admit I am a little embarrassed. I let myself go on and on thinking I had it so rough, when in reality it’s the opposite. I am grateful to my readers, for allowing me to be self-centered for a page (or two). We all need to sulk sometimes, but we also need to figure out ways to pull ourselves out of those moments as well. As a reader, I hope my you were able to gain some perspective about your own life, like I was able to. How have you been feeling lately? Have you been looking at your blessings as burdens like I was? It’s never too late to open your eyes and heart, and make a small change that can improve your outlook on life. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-86012264160204866902016-02-23T14:29:00.001-08:002016-02-23T14:29:57.103-08:005 Reasons Why Being Friends With Your Siblings is the Best<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is a saying my Dad would always say to us when he wanted to make us laugh, “You can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend's’ nose.” This saying was usually met with a chorus of “eww” as we all dodged each other's fingers, but my dad was absolutely right, you </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">can</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> pick your friends. Family on the other hand, is luck of the draw. Still, there is something pretty magical that happens when you take your relationships with your family members to the next level and become friends. Specifically, when you become friends with your siblings. Now, I’m not meaning Facebook-obligatory- like their posts-friendships. I am talking about daily contact- genuine interest in their lives- wanting to see them more than during the holidays-secret language-friendship. </span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-978c6443-100b-bbf4-2c04-2ae4e346e669" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s true it is not always easy to be friends with your brothers and sisters, and there may be periods of time when you are closer to one over the other. But the beauty of this is, you will never be without each other. Family is forever, and if you are lucky enough to consider your brothers and sisters your friends, you will always have someone there for you. Now, being friends with your siblings can happen naturally, but there are elements to it that take work. When you have a busy life, you have to </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">decide</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to be friends with each other and make the effort just as you would with any other relationship. That being said, long ago I decided that my brothers and sisters were more than just my siblings, they were also my friends, and I soon discovered he following are reasons why being friends with your siblings is the best:</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1. You will never run out of inside jokes</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">No matter who you are, sharing an inside joke with someone is one of the most fun ways to feel connected. When it comes to the people you grew up with, there are a plethora of moments that when reminded of will evoke endless giggles and eye watering laughter- usually while other people look at you in confusion. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2. So much between you is unspoken</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There are multiple layers of understanding and familiarity with your siblings and so, when you talk to each other, you are able to surpass the backstory and get right to the heart of the matter. Answering each other’s text messages with one word, or a GIF works because there is already a lifetime of context to rely on.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">3. You have seen them at their worst moments and still want to be around them</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Think about all the gross things you have seen your siblings do growing up. Maybe one of you was a terrible person as a teenager, or went through a weird phase. Whatever bad or gross things we have witnessed our siblings do, it hasn’t scared us away. We didn’t really have a choice when we were younger, and now that we do, it’s forgotten- or it gets added to the list of things we use to make fun of each other- see #1. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">4. No one knows you better</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I would like to think as we age, we also grow. We learn from our mistakes and we become better people. That being said, our siblings know who we are at our core, and that doesn’t change. Since the development of our personalities are intertwined with each other no matter how we change, our siblings will always know us best, and there will be very few people in our lives who can say the same.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">5. The Love</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The love that exists between siblings is only second to the love between children and parents. Even the love between spouses takes a close third. I have the privilege of remembering when each of my siblings were born, and the instant rush of emotions I had for them when I first laid eyes on them is a feeling I can’t explain. Only seeing my own child after her birth can top the moment. The love in a friendship between brothers and sisters creates an unbreakable bond, and it is for this reason that friendships like this are meant to last forever. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijN_bGHbMGznmTn2WzWOw-kqrfPZuW1cCzKfezFJxZeeRx451_hiychms8spn3WOJVeOWFFk9NLlHGxwHFcLMzPc1YP64uI2NdB4cNvF-kt8L-VWOtP4jZijprr4meGRtNMsWFFDivsC4/s1600/10710522_10102307703146420_1190534978272507148_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijN_bGHbMGznmTn2WzWOw-kqrfPZuW1cCzKfezFJxZeeRx451_hiychms8spn3WOJVeOWFFk9NLlHGxwHFcLMzPc1YP64uI2NdB4cNvF-kt8L-VWOtP4jZijprr4meGRtNMsWFFDivsC4/s400/10710522_10102307703146420_1190534978272507148_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am excited for the day when my daughter has a little brother or sister of her very own to play with, take care of, and love. I only hope that I can instill the same sense of closeness that my parents instilled in me and my siblings. At the very least, my brothers, sisters, and I will be a model for all of our children, just as my father and his siblings have been for us. </span></div>
<br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I know I’m lucky to have this kind of relationship with my brothers and sister, and I’m grateful everyday that the universe chose me to be their sister, and more so that they chose me to be their friend.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-32824562536127829132016-02-12T15:38:00.002-08:002016-02-12T15:58:56.391-08:00I Get it NowHaving my daughter absolutely changed my life. In the harder moments I think to myself how lucky I am to have such a loving mother who has provided me with a great example of limitless love. So, this weeks blog post is a poem, a dedication of sorts, to my mama.<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I get it now </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When you say I am your baby, even though I’m 29</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why you hug me a little longer</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why you place your hand on mine</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I get it now</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why you woke me through the night</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CptjsCsTI_gD2MCQoTJqu9OWj7SSp4wF52HDx3GDE32OPF7UNWau80Hk5bPOF-kHyUrOWd8Q34WVuBJKNhjn-hm5BsKq7FE3tItfpe5aETFpvzFN1AzbK-9g3sPxTYopkKYX058cUC4/s1600/12068622_10207208958438259_4388548147095841716_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CptjsCsTI_gD2MCQoTJqu9OWj7SSp4wF52HDx3GDE32OPF7UNWau80Hk5bPOF-kHyUrOWd8Q34WVuBJKNhjn-hm5BsKq7FE3tItfpe5aETFpvzFN1AzbK-9g3sPxTYopkKYX058cUC4/s400/12068622_10207208958438259_4388548147095841716_o.jpg" width="300" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To make sure my fever broke</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Even when you worked a double shift</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And the fatigue was settled on your soul</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I get it now</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How my accomplishments can bring you pride</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why you clapped the loudest</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why it may have made you cry</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I get it now</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why every school trip you would attend</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Even when I was not excited</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And would rather sit with a friend</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I get it now</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How my growing brought both joy and sorrow</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How you hated watching me outgrow my clothes</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And loved to see what I would do tomorrow</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I get that without a YOU</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There would not be a ME</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I get why you stepped back, why you let me be</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But most of all</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I get it </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How love can change and grow</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Into something magical, </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The bounds of which I still don’t know</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How it becomes unstoppable</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A force of nature-sure and true</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It all makes sense to me</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I understand my love for her </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I get it now, because of you </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-25594497962931507812016-02-09T13:33:00.000-08:002016-02-09T18:15:16.924-08:00The Harsh World of Teenage Girls <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I work at a school of all boys, so it is easy for me to forget what it’s like to work with teenage girls. I recently took a job teaching ACT prep on Saturday mornings to boys and girls at a local high school. As the girls trickled into my classroom passing me at the doorway, I realized how much time went into their looks. I mean, it was an early Saturday morning! If I was in high school at the time and I came in for an ACT prep class, I probably would be in jeans and a hoodie. Not these ladies. So many of them had a full face of makeup and glossy bouncy curls, or smooth straight hair. At first, I thought to myself, “Wow! How do they already know how to apply their makeup so well?” I then realized, due to the internet and the immediacy of information, anything can be found online. This may sound like a perk of modern society, but is this really a good thing? I started thinking more and more about what pressures young girls face today. I came to the conclusion that being a teenager is much harder today than it was when I was one. The following are not only things that make life harder for teenage girls, but also are things I didn't really have to deal with when I was younger:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>1. Makeup and hair tutorials</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAdgyq-M52wUF2PWAKJJxWs3L9nOye9X9xSOMPgjBmKl6UKgLV1Y8bIkMj1aaVsV3vwRvHM-nxBTCGzq0dO6pD1zRL2kpOK9pYPxJoxOyNnCjEUK40GK90yYF1DH26lE-cA0Ni5vRzEA/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAdgyq-M52wUF2PWAKJJxWs3L9nOye9X9xSOMPgjBmKl6UKgLV1Y8bIkMj1aaVsV3vwRvHM-nxBTCGzq0dO6pD1zRL2kpOK9pYPxJoxOyNnCjEUK40GK90yYF1DH26lE-cA0Ni5vRzEA/s1600/download.jpg" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I was in high school my greatest worry when it came to make up was making sure my eyeliner was even and my eyebrows were plucked just the right way. I also had terrible skin that I was trying to figure out ways to cover, but guess what, so was every other teenager I knew. Today people have access to hair and makeup tutorials. </span><span style="font-size: 12.6667px; line-height: 1.38;">These are plastered all over the Internet.On the surface, makeup and hair tutorials may seem harmless, and even beneficial. Instead of fumbling with makeup for the first time, or just doing what your friends are doing (which they just learned from their older sisters), you can watch other girls go through a step by step instructional video of how to apply the perfect lip liner. You can't go far on YouTube or Instagram without finding a video about how to </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yw7mysen4T0" style="font-size: 12.6667px; line-height: 1.38;" target="_blank">clown contour</a><span style="font-size: 12.6667px; line-height: 1.38;"> (yes, that’s a thing) or braid your hair in a crazy complicated way. In reality, however, I think it just places an unnecessary pressure on girls to look like the women in these videos. A girl’s style and expression is no longer hers, rather it is just a replica of the latest trend and video. Have you mastered the beach waves look yet? That’s okay, just look it up. How about the perfect smokey eye? Well, Pinterest has over 100 pins that can direct you to a how-to on that. Whatever the look- there’s a video, and although that may seem like it makes a girl’s life easier, it creates a situation where girls' expectations of themselves are unrealistic. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>2. Instagram, Facebook, SnapChat, Twitter...etc</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhql6uMpsWcHgx8QwY3gY-oy3Eu95KwuaxPcyeDzcsUNpKnVFxt77zEpRbCUssomV1NcIg6PJ-pLR1Hn09_MFJHETdZmcj7QG8BZQofkVqtituLM8H8_NacAi_pflrb0-rE7Wd6G6-llZ4/s1600/26fb6393cd0f342fea8d888292519fbe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhql6uMpsWcHgx8QwY3gY-oy3Eu95KwuaxPcyeDzcsUNpKnVFxt77zEpRbCUssomV1NcIg6PJ-pLR1Hn09_MFJHETdZmcj7QG8BZQofkVqtituLM8H8_NacAi_pflrb0-rE7Wd6G6-llZ4/s320/26fb6393cd0f342fea8d888292519fbe.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now, we all may laugh and think to ourselves that a selfie is no big deal, but to many teenage girls taking a perfect selfie is very important. Don’t forget, these selfies are being posted on social media. Getting as many likes as possible is not just a form of validation but is more so a form of social currency for our youth. Having an active and popular presence on social media is a whole new measure of popularity and happiness for teens today. Every hangout, hookup, and latte are now being posted as evidence of how "cool" they are, when in reality these are simply manicured versions of their lives. For teenage girls especially, wanting to fit in and look the part derives a lot from whether or not they are accepted on social media. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>3. Reality TV</b></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is nothing more terrible than watching a TV show of so-called “real people” who are taking extravagant trips, have their own Glam squad, and can shop wherever they want when I myself consider buying an outfit at Macy’s as a splurge. There is nothing real about these people, yet they are portrayed as people we can easily emulate. I can't imagine what it would be like as a teenager to sit and watch shows like <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1086761/" target="_blank">Keeping Up With the Kardashians</a> and <a href="http://realitytv.about.com/od/findoutaboutnewshows/tp/Meet-The-Cast-of-Rich-Kids-of-Beverly-Hills.htm" target="_blank">Rich Kids of Beverly Hills</a>, thinking that this is the way real people live in other parts of the country. I have to admit, I myself am a sucker for a trashy reality TV shows, but I also know that these shows are just that- trashy TV. When I was in high school, the amount of reality TV was pretty minimal. I spent my weekday nights watching love triangles unfold on shows like Grey’s Anatomy and One Tree Hill. Of course, like all TV and movies, there were always elements of fantasy- but that was okay because these were shows of fiction. Reality TV is created in a way to perpetuate this idea that anyone can be made into a celebrity with the right look and following, and that’s simply not true. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhztl72ax2WeqtZ4u9gYoAnjiGr2zAqlsezuohjh1xCVF-3r2wWFBjOXYk9akjfMYvvjKPVqMXoA8dti_lwOnhsEbYIURkv1c2Rn_zLtXzE5z3mdh5PdQF1kItRaVdIrPsck3asaC85Y/s1600/1426473705087.cached.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhztl72ax2WeqtZ4u9gYoAnjiGr2zAqlsezuohjh1xCVF-3r2wWFBjOXYk9akjfMYvvjKPVqMXoA8dti_lwOnhsEbYIURkv1c2Rn_zLtXzE5z3mdh5PdQF1kItRaVdIrPsck3asaC85Y/s320/1426473705087.cached.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>4. Online Pornography </b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">WOAH- What?! Yes- I am going there-and I hope you have an open mind to continue reading. Now, online pornography has never been something I have thought much about. I know it’s out there, and I know it’s free and easily accessible. But it wasn’t until I saw the documentary, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt4382552/" target="_blank">Hot Girls Wanted</a>, that I really began to think of the damaging effects the online pornography industry has on the youth of America. Think about it: before the internet, teenagers had to figure out creative ways of getting their hands on dirty videos and pictures, and because of that it wasn't done as often. Today, anyone with Wi-Fi can download and watch videos ranging from amateur videos made by frisky couples to hardcore violent sex acts performed on seemingly young girls. In fact, according to the documentary, videos featuring teenage girls are the number-one-searched type of pornography. How does this affect teens? Well, boys who are watching these videos (at an even younger age than before) may believe that this is what a real sexual relationship is like, and girls who get into relationships with these boys may be forced into participating in sexual acts that make them uncomfortable and even put them in physical danger. Both young men and women are at a great risk of going through their adolescence with this unrealistic view of sex, and to me that is scary. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now to some who are reading this, it may seem like I am making a lot of assumptions, and I’m sorry. I am not trying to say that all teenage girls are victims in this cruel world of beauty, celebrity, and social media. I just realize, that as an adult, figuring out how to look past the veil of materialism, vanity, and artificiality is hard! Figuring out who you are as a sexual being is scary and tricky at best. So, I can only imagine what it would be like to deal with this as a young girl. We all remember what it was like to be a teenager. There was a lot about it that wasn’t fun. I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted from life, and I was able to figure it out on my own through a journey of triumphs and mistakes- all of which are memories and not regretful moments plastered all over the internet. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I know these 4 challenges are just the tip of the iceberg for what the youth today have to deal with, but I think it’s a starting point for important discussion to happen. As parents, teachers, counselors, etc, we have to face the fact that although there are many things we can relate to with youth today, teens are living a very different life. It’s important to talk to them about these challenges, and not pretend like we always know what they are going through. If we look at what girls (and boys) are facing today and have those hard conversations, we will help them to not only make better decisions as teenagers, but develop the confidence and skills to continue making those positive decisions into adulthood. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s pretty crazy for me to think that one day my very own daughter will have to learn how to stand on her own in a world that will lay perpetual societal pressures on her shoulders. I know it won’t be easy for her or me, and I just hope we are both up for the challenge.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-31257424115037136602016-02-08T15:34:00.001-08:002016-02-08T15:34:33.410-08:00Millennial Mama<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I decided to change the name of my blog recently. I did this because I feel like my life has greatly changed and I want the opportunity to write about these changes. Before now, I have stuck (most of the time) to writing about experiences in my classroom, but I have quickly discovered, there is so many things I want to say about topics other than education. So much of my identity has surrounded being a teacher, and although that is still a major part of who I am, I owe it to myself to explore the other sides of me. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I will still write about my classroom experiences, but I also want to write about what it’s like to be a woman during this day and age. I want to share my strife and triumphs of motherhood. I want to post my ponderings of marriage and my imaginings of poetry and short stories. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That is what I intend to do here, and I hope that as a reader you are able to enjoy and relate to the thoughts I formulate into words and post on this blog. I know it seems silly to even write this kind of post- but I wanted a fresh start-so here it is- ready set go!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 19.84px;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-34108346296288285622015-08-20T13:13:00.000-07:002015-08-20T15:44:28.097-07:00A Dedication to My Brother and the Father He Has Become<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9OVHWEq8eeZ-IE1hCoPWLOz9YAR1A8-XwdJefJYxSZfV_PgMNfDIxagQu3Jbe3JjwIIIVRN7RzrpbxYnjNtx80iMh8ZR9-UkiqILGDefWOADtniXCcXpNgsJh08ObZxIW7rhhKy4P09w/s1600/IMG_1192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9OVHWEq8eeZ-IE1hCoPWLOz9YAR1A8-XwdJefJYxSZfV_PgMNfDIxagQu3Jbe3JjwIIIVRN7RzrpbxYnjNtx80iMh8ZR9-UkiqILGDefWOADtniXCcXpNgsJh08ObZxIW7rhhKy4P09w/s320/IMG_1192.JPG" width="320"></a>Normally, I use this blog space to write about my experiences and lessons learned in the classroom. However, I'm allowing myself to use this as a forum to say some really important things about someone in my life who means the world to me. These are words I can't bring to my lips for they hold so much weight and emotion, so I will put them to screen in the hopes that not only my brother sees them, but all those who are in his same position. <br>
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Anyone who knows me, knows that my family -- especially my siblings -- are everything to me. They are both the roots that keep me grounded and the limbs that lift me up and push me to achieve. My brother, Gabriel, is no exception. He is one of the most important people in my life. There isn't a day that goes by that Gabe and I don't communicate. No moment in my life that he didn't know about first, or has helped me through. Besides my husband, Gabe is the only other person who I tell everything to. I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture.<br>
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One of the most satisfying things about being the oldest has been watching Gabe and my other siblings grow, mature, and accomplish their goals. It's truly beautiful to see how each of my siblings have their own personalities, talents, and dreams. I am proud to say I have been able to watch Gabe celebrate some of life's greatest moments: graduations, awards, marriage, and most recently parenting.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheWNXqqiyp-J_WlXfzZLYTadD-on_y7T1LE5V3MCWeBDsRuGFewmbfxkdg4eJlTxjv_Z4Lu_X-eiZQYu7fAvqfFo9cXtRvFq11ErzRpPIKj5V49comEiILRQupG1U3Xac-NRVu4pj9pW4/s1600/IMG_1410.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheWNXqqiyp-J_WlXfzZLYTadD-on_y7T1LE5V3MCWeBDsRuGFewmbfxkdg4eJlTxjv_Z4Lu_X-eiZQYu7fAvqfFo9cXtRvFq11ErzRpPIKj5V49comEiILRQupG1U3Xac-NRVu4pj9pW4/s320/IMG_1410.JPG" width="320"></a>Yes, my stinky little brother grew up to be a man and a Dad. Gabe and his husband became foster parents and for the past year have been Dads to two beautiful children. This has been the biggest transformation I have ever seen Gabe go through. I know everyone who has children go through a lot of changes- but my brother and his husband literally became parents of an infant and toddler overnight! Now, the tables have turned and the kid who used to call me for advice will be able to hand out his own once my baby is finally born! Life is crazy beautiful in that way.<br>
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So, you ask me, why write this? Why dedicate these words to my brother for becoming a Dad when people do it everyday? It's simple. Foster parents don't get the recognition they deserve, and I want the world to know how PROUD and INSPIRED I am by brother and his husband!<br>
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Also, there is more to the story. Unlike myself, my brother's house will not be the permanent residence of his children. He will not be able to watch these little ones grow up and become adults, because they will soon be reunited with their birth parents. As one can imagine, this has been incredibly hard for Gabe and his husband. I am not here to argue the decision the courts have made or to bad mouth the birth parents of these children. I just want to shed light on the selflessness that is fostering.<br>
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Now, as I said before, my brother has been a Dad for about a year now. And, although I was always proud of him it wasn't until recently that I was truly able to understand, even just for a moment, the true joy and pain my brother must be experiencing as a foster parent. It opened my eyes to something I thought I already knew -- but in reality was totally ignorant to.<br>
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It happened right after my baby shower. I was elbow deep in a laundry basket of newly washed baby clothes, happily folding. The smell of the baby laundry detergent was all around me and I was talking to my husband about how surreal this all still was to me. It was so hard for me to imagine the small human that was soon going to be wearing these clothes and wrapped in the blankets. I was trying to imagine my daughter's locks of curly hair and how it would feel to touch them with my finger tips, and what her skin would feel like under my kiss -- the final weeks of my pregnancy at that moment felt like an eternity! Just then, she moved in my stomach, almost in response to my thoughts as if to say, "I'm here mama, don't worry I will see you soon!" Needless to say I was overcome with emotion. I felt this immense sense of gratitude and happiness like I've never known. Not only was I having a baby, but I just had a party where my family and friends showered my unborn child with gifts -- nothing could make the moment better.<br>
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I started to think about Gabe and his husband and what they were currently going though. I felt guilty. What did I do to deserve all of this? NOTHING. The process to being a parent was relatively simple for me. I was born a girl. I married a boy. I got pregnant. I didn't have to go through a long process of paper work involving social workers, interviews, and home inspections for this baby, and in the end she will be ours -- no questions asked.<br>
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I tried to feel better by telling myself that Gabe and his husband will be able to get another pair of kids, and maybe this time they will be able to adopt them. I was sick with myself. His children are not a leased car that they can turn in for a better model! It all began to hit me. Up until this point, I had felt sad for my brother and his husband. Gabe talked a lot about how hard this process was and what it was doing to his kids. And I sympathized with him, because it was a sad situation, and I love my brother- so his pain was my pain. But it wasn't until this moment as all these thoughts were rushing through my head, holding my daughter's outfit, feeling her move inside of me, was I truly able to empathize with my brother.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv33mqwVm_qu5NuqihHkDGYT22ZWDKjwpCknWcHgtGCglMs-F1jDiGhGinNqgKAsXaX3U3sF6dQCjOa20LIUS-TZPsbezGg5aKjLQSCmcSepQmC6w5M2gHmC-A5IDiWYPuipCvDwr4ae0/s1600/IMG_0352.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv33mqwVm_qu5NuqihHkDGYT22ZWDKjwpCknWcHgtGCglMs-F1jDiGhGinNqgKAsXaX3U3sF6dQCjOa20LIUS-TZPsbezGg5aKjLQSCmcSepQmC6w5M2gHmC-A5IDiWYPuipCvDwr4ae0/s320/IMG_0352.JPG" width="240"></a>This is what I realized, and I couldn't believe I hadn't before this moment. Gabe isn't a foster parent. He is more than that. He is a Father, Dad, Daddy first and foremost and a foster parent second. The children are his son and daughter, not his "foster kids", they call him and his husband Daddy because that's who they are to them. Gabe is an awesome Dad, and so is his husband- but they wouldn't be if they saw themselves as "Foster Parents" and their children as their "Foster Kids." Yes, I know, this is what they signed up for when becoming foster parents. They knew that this day could come -- but that doesn't change the fact that for the past year they have loved and cared for these two adorable beings no differently then they would have if they were their own flesh and blood.<br>
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So, I ask you reader, put yourself for a moment in his shoes. Think of your children, or niece or nephew- a child who you love and care for. Now for a moment imagine someone taking away that child... Is it hard to breathe? Do you ache? Or did you not even try to imagine it because it was too hard?<br>
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I am sorry to say, it wasn't until I myself started to feel like a mother, did I really see Gabe as a father. It's as if the experiences of my pregnancy lifted a veil from my eyes I didn't even know was there. I haven't met my daughter, and the thought of her not being mine is something I can't even begin to handle. I'm not proud of the fact that it took me this long to see something that was directly in front of me -- but now that I have, it has permanently changed how I see my brother's experiences. My only hope is that people who read this also change their perspective and realize the magnitude of what foster parents may be going through. I know it's hard to always know what to say when faced with a topic such as this, but if there is a level of empathy and understanding- no words are needed.<br>
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I know Gabe and his husband are going to have kids who will be theirs forever. They will not give up on their journey, but I understand now, even if it's just by a fraction, how hard this journey may be. So, in this moment of realization I dedicate these words and emotions to my brother and the amazing father he is and will continue to be -- even once his kids leave his home. He will always be a father even once those bedrooms are empty because they will hold the memory of diapers and play dates, runny noses and tear-stained cheeks, baby laughter and first steps. Being a parent is not conditional based on how many children are in the home. These experiences have created parents out of Gabe and his husband, and no amount of syntax and rhetoric can ever take that honor away.<br>
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<br>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-76828275340545578082015-08-19T09:21:00.001-07:002015-08-19T09:21:08.131-07:00The Bicycle Theory- 5 Ways I hope to Foster Motivation in my Classroom <div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The new school year is right around the corner, and as I embark on my 6th year as a educator I have been reflecting on ways to improve my craft. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">As a teacher, I am always looking for ways to increase student
motivation and buy-in. In an ideal world, students would be excited to learn the
sake of learning. They would want good grades because that will lead to
graduation and scholarships and a university of their choice which will then
lead them to a prosperous life. All of these things sound wonderful, don't
they? News flash- we do not live in an ideal world. As a high school teacher, I
have to deal with academic apathy on an everyday basis. Critics may say,
"If you are preparing and executing student-centered and engaging lessons,
there will always be buy-in and high student motivation." They raise a
good point. However, this is unrealistic. Not every single lesson in every
single class of every single day can be engaging to every single student.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I have come to ponder the idea of
motivation based on cultural experience and expectations. As a Mexican-American
woman, is my own self-efficacy and motivation tangled in the culture and
customs I was raised with? Was it simply my parents and family? How does
society play into it? All of these questions have left me reeling as I attempt
to crack the code needed to keep my students highly motivated. The more I think
about it, the more I start to believe that the key to motivation lies less in a
single cultural experience but more in that of the overall human experience. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Where does motivation start? One of
my very first memories of motivation is learning to ride a bike. I am sure many
people can relate to the experience. This was something I wanted, and no matter
how many times I fell off-- I got right back on. Why did I want to ride the
bike in the first place? I guess it was to keep up with my friends, to get
around the neighborhood, and to enjoy the freedom of movement.<span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:UPStaff" datetime="2015-08-19T10:01"> </ins></span>I
feel like this is motivation in its purest form.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">All of these things were natural rewards
for mastering the skill. Most importantly they were intrinsic and sustaining. I
would never run out of places to go or things to see. Once I excelled, a new
level of bike riding would unlock. It was a </span><span style="font-size: 18px;">never ending</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> reward system. First I
started off with riding corner to corner. Once I mastered that I was able to go
around the block. Next, was to the busy street and back, and before I knew it,
I was going all the way to the park.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">This experience of mine, I feel, is
universal. Go into any neighborhood of any race, culture, and class, and there
will be people who have had the same experience of learning to ride a bike.
Sure, the type and quality of the bike will change, maybe the amount of freedom
one has to ride the bike would differ, but most people would be able to tell
the story of how they felt when they first rode steady and strong on their own,
and more importantly, they will be able to share the positive emotional
attachment to that moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 18px;">Think about it this way: Once we learned to ride our bikes, did we just stop?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">So, why don't we teach like we are showing
students how to ride a bike? So much of education is focused on an end result--
higher education and a career. What if we stopped focusing so much on where
students were going, and more on the vehicle through which they would use to
get there, the vehicle being their education? Isn't an ideal education just
like riding a bike? First we learn easier skills that we then can build upon
and challenge to be able to go faster and further. Yes, the destination is
still important, but if we took more time and energy to help students see
the joy in the journey, maybe more students would stay in school...or on their
bikes as the metaphor goes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I know I sound like just another
idealistic educator who talks a lot but doesn't actually say anything, but I
really feel like I have something here. How do we build this idea that the process of learning is just as
important as the end result in our classrooms, schools, and communities? What
can I do to ignite the intrinsic motivation of my students?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">While thinking of this issue, I came up
with a small list of things I can do in my classroom to help students stay
motivated more naturally:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">1. Allow students to compete with
themselves. Give students some form of an assessment at the beginning of the
year, semester, unit, and show them their own personal growth as they master
more skills and content.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">2. Help students to make personal and
academic goals, and provide a time when they can develop ideas and plans for
how they can accomplish their goals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">3. As the year progresses and students
learn more, allow them more privileges, so they see the connection between
learning and gaining.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">4. Use visuals in the classroom to show
how much students have learned and accomplished throughout the year to inspire
pride and a positive self-image.<span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:UPStaff" datetime="2015-08-19T10:03"><o:p></o:p></ins></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">5. Be transparent with students about how I am continuing my own education, and what are the steps I take to better myself as a life long learner. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I am hoping to use the above list in my classroom this year, and to help my students make a paradigm shift about education and the part they play in their own journey. At the very least, I want students to learn that education is more than just a rocket, meant to blast off and drop them off in their future, rather it is a vehicle they will be using for the rest of their lives. We all have that dusty, rusty bike in our garage that we use from time to time. We must teach students that education is like that bike, Every now and then, when we need to, we must get that bike out- dust it off and jump on it, ready for a new adventure. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 18px;">I hope all the educators out there have a great school year and remember the joy of teaching is in the journey of becoming the best, not the moment when you believe you have finally arrived. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-50639480522297557082014-05-20T17:42:00.001-07:002014-05-20T17:42:55.872-07:00 Teaching Like a Brain Surgeon Teaching is made up of many things. Small and big moments. Lesson plans, essays, grades,data and books. I came to expect these parts of the job when embarking on the teaching profession, but no one ever told me teaching was life or death. I knew teaching was a career that meant something. Teachers make a difference and do good work. Yet, it wasn't until I started working with all inner-city, black, males that I started to feel the immense pressure of what I had signed up for. My job is to educate my students: to help them navigate through the world of literature and grammar; to introduce them to the concept of code switching and Standard English; to ignite their love of reading and writing. I always do this to the best of my ability every single day.<br />
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Since last year, there has been something creeping at me from the sidelines that I didn't expect. It was this hovering threat of what would happen to my students if I didn't accomplish my task. If I didn't do my job well, and they were not prepared for college and the world beyond...what was going to happen to them? I began thinking and obsessing over every little occurrence in class. Every moment that was wasted. Every time I had to redirect a student and was put off track. Looking back at last year, I realized how hard I was on myself. Even my bad days weren't that bad-- my students learned, but was it enough?<br />
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On days when I was especially stressed out about class and my students' growth, I literally had to remind myself that I am in fact NOT a brain surgeon. It's something I think all educators have to remind themselves sometimes. Unlike brain surgery, it's okay to not be perfect in the classroom. It's okay to not get the exact results you want the first time.<br />
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I started pouring over news reports and blogs about youth violence in Chicago, and graduation statistics of black males in CPS. One particular article I found about the <a href="http://www.modelsforchange.net/newsroom/419" target="_blank">School-to-Prison Pipeline </a> made me really think of my students' safety and success within the school system. I was already aware that students were not always safe outside of school. This article made me realize that at some schools, students aren't even safe when they attend. It quickly became clear to me: I may not be a brain surgeon, but I should teach like it is a matter of life or death, because at times, that may be an unfortunate alternative.<br />
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No matter what, I will continue to change and adapt to my students and my world, and numbers and data aside, that is what will mold me into a great educator. I know I am not alone in this. I will continue to hold tight to the belief that education saves lives. I believe that the population I am working with deserves teachers who treat their job with urgency and intensity. Yet, on days when I don't feel like my lesson was the best it can be, instead of obsessing over every minute detail, I will think about what my students accomplished and walked away with. Most of all, I will think about what I need to change to make it better. Is there a change I can implement next year, or is there something I can do for tomorrow to make my students' experience more productive?<br />
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I believe that if people don't view a quality education as something that can in fact save lives, we are missing an important point. I think there are going to be a lot of educators out there who can relate to the responsibility of working with youth in the world today. To the educators out there remember- You are NOT a brain surgeon. You are doing good by your students, and as long as you never give up, you will always leave them with something valuable, whether it was on the lesson plan or not.<br />
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Okay, so every <i>moment </i>in class is not a life or death situation. However, if we as teachers are not successful over a period of a child's academic career, their quality of life can be adversely affected. So, yes, I do see my job as critical, and there are times when I want to shout it from the roof tops! I want society to stop viewing my profession as something menial and unimportant. More importantly, we as teachers need to always view ourselves as the leaders of our classrooms, and as someone powerful in our students' lives. Sure, we may not be brain surgeons, but we have a very important job to do, and we should never forget it.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-54628054631862768882013-12-17T10:43:00.000-08:002013-12-17T10:43:21.846-08:00We're Not Afraid of YouAt the end of the semester I like to give students a survey. It's a feedback form with a variety of questions about class. Some of them are about their own experience with the material and what they believe to have learned. I also ask questions about my role as an educator and what I could do to improve my class. One particular question I always ask, "What do you believe Ms. Perez could have done better?"<br />
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Now, this can be a hit or miss question. When I allow students to be anonymous, they are brutally honest. Sometimes, it's awesome. I get to read about things I did well, and more often than not, students are very constructive with their criticism. However, there is one kind of feedback that I do get once in a while that always upsets me to the core. One student in particular was very bold in his words.<br />
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He stated, "You could control us better if you were more mean. We not afraid of you."<br />
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So much of this sticks out to me as disheartening. First, I should say that I am unafraid of airing the fact that I am an imperfect teacher. This survey took place after my 1st year of teaching at my current school (3rd year as an educator). Classroom management, which is the underlying subtext of this comment, is a topic that comes up in every classroom around the world. Was classroom management an issue on some days? Definitely! Still, I feel like I worked through it, learned a lot, and have become a better educator because of it.<br />
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Aside from the reminder that this class was not always ideal, I am really hit by the word choice of this student. Words like, "control" and "mean" stand out. And then of course there is the last part, "We are not afraid of you." So many questions enter my mind. Why should students <i>have</i> to be afraid of their teacher? Is fear the best management method? Of course not! Then why do students respond to it more often than some of the other strategies I have used in the classroom?<br />
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I sought out colleagues to help me with this question. I asked them if I should change my approach in the classroom? At the time, I had a clear set of rules and expectations with the appropriate consequences when students did not meet those expectations. I made calls home, kept students after school, and, on occasion, would refer them to the Dean's department. I didn't like to be; however, when I needed to be, I was assertive and loud, and as always I had a strong presence in the classroom. So, what was I doing wrong?<br />
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I had a mixed reaction from other teachers. Some teachers told me that I should speak to the students like their mothers and grandmothers did, which they further translated to: I needed to be loud and assertive and, at times, aggressive with my words and tone. Others told me to keep doing what I was doing and to not perpetuate bad habits because eventually they would tune out my yelling. Either way, I was still left confused and in need of answers. Why did students believe that in order to listen to me I had to first instill fear?<br />
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As I was pondering this I came across an article in The Huffington Post, "<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ise-lyfe/kicking-black-boys-out-of_b_1894719.html" target="_blank">Kicking Black Boys Out of Class, Teaching Black Girls a Lesson</a>." The writer, Ise Lyfe asserts that by pushing black boys out of the classroom via the suspension and/or referral system, we are painting a very negative view of the Black male which will then in turn affect how Black women view, treat, and interact with future Black men- thus affecting the Black family in America. He sums up the connection to the classroom succinctly in the following excerpt:<br />
<br />
<i> "<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">It is important that teachers realize that we are not only preparing our students for their futures in education and careers, but also in their development into fatherhood and motherhood. Every time (yes, every time) we are kicking a Black boy out of class or writing him a referral we are adding to the demise of the Black family. In the inversion of the situation, every time (yes, every time) we struggle with these little brothers, every time we elevate what a great job they are doing, every time we reward them, we are contributing to the revitalization of the Black family."</span></i><br />
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All of this leads me to wonder ( I promise this is all leading me to somewhere!), are the challenges I am facing in the classroom a product of emotional baggage from generations past? An even worse thought pops into my head: how much of this is due to things happening inside the classroom? How have educators and school administrators of the past negatively influenced the psyches of not only the current generation, but their parents, and grandparents? If I have a student in my class who only responds to an aggressively raised voice and tone, is it because that is the way his mother speaks to him? If so, does she do this because she would talk to his father like that....because that is how all other females in her life spoke to and treated the Black males in their lives?<br />
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More importantly, is this negative treatment due to the framing of Black boys within the school system? How many vicious cycles are we participating in when we kick Black boys out of the classroom, raise our voice, and talk negatively to them; and, how far does the damage go? It burns me to the core to believe that the beautiful, courageous, boisterous, adventurous, and silly boys sitting in my classroom believe that they need to be controlled, and talked down to. That they may actually feel unworthy of positive verbal interactions.<br />
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Now, through all of this, I am not trying to advocate for having an enabling approach with our students. Instead, I believe in a strict, structured, and stern classroom and school environment. All students benefit from having a teacher who has high expectations for them; not only academically, but behaviorally as well. I think the change comes in how, when we do have to give a consequence, we handle the situation. Will we raise our voice and eventually kick them out of the classroom? Or, will we maintain composure and do whatever we can to keep students with us in the room, and continue to work on and improve their behavior and character ourselves?<br />
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How can we know the difference if we aren't willing to change our actions first? I do not believe that only one or two teachers in a Black boy's school career can make a difference. It will take an educational paradigm shift of how we as a nation manage and deal with boys of color within our school walls. A school-wide, even district-wide, commitment to supporting teachers in the classroom, and even providing extra training on positive behavioral management and restorative justice. Let's face it, our Black boys will not be facing justice on the streets of Chicago when they leave our school. So, instead of creating a place where they feel oppressed and disrespected, we can show them the best sides of humanity, so when they face a problem in the real world they will deal with it maturely because it's all they know. Pipe-dream? Maybe...but it's one dream worth fighting for.<br />
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In reflection, I can say that I am not always the teacher I want to be. I do yell,get angry, and even remove students from my classroom. Still, I am committed to adjusting my practice to better the lives of my students, and in the long run, the lives of their future families. So, looking back at the student's feedback, I guess I am okay with the comment, "We are not afraid of you." I have come full circle to that idea. Now it's time to create a school climate where every student can say that to every teacher. I refuse to use fear to manage my classroom, the cycle will stop with me.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7129099466293980186.post-12828926940845140622013-02-23T16:16:00.000-08:002013-02-23T16:16:53.065-08:00Shaking The Dust OffWelcome to my new blog! It's been a while since I have written anything other than formative comments and lesson plans. When I was younger, I always had this dream of being a writer. I believed that during my breaks from school and on the weekends I would be able to use that time to construct the next great American novel. It's funny how naive I was to the true demands and commitments of being a teacher.<br />
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So here I am, on a Saturday night, using my planning time to write this first blog. I feel stiff, as would a runner who was sedimentary for some time. My mind is trying to adjust to the world of writing for pleasure and expression instead of lesson creating and data driving. I think it's going to take some time, but this feels good. It feels right.<br />
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I've been throwing around the idea of writing a blog about my experiences in the classroom for some time now. I always put it on the back burner for many reasons. A few, I believe, are valid. Most reasons come down to the simple fact that I've never been one to share my writing. Those who know me probably have never read any of my poems or short stories, maybe they didn't even know they existed. Writing to me has always been like prayer-quiet, thoughtful, and private.<br />
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Yet here I am. There is something stirring in me that hasn't been there before, and I feel like it's time. It's time for me to write. I must take the toxins stress creates in my mind, body, and soul, and release them in a way that will bring me closer to humanity- instead of isolating me in my own world of papers, tests, and standards. I may be a teacher, but I'm also a 20-something woman, a born and raised Chicagoan, a Latina, a soon-to-be-bride, a sister, a friend, a daughter... and that means that what I have to say is relevant and important! I shouldn't be afraid to speak my mind, even if it is on a silly little blog.<br />
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If there's only one thing I've learned by now it's this: Life does not stop because you need it to or want it to. There is no pause button. Life keeps going, and if you don't keep up- it will pass you by carrying with it the the dreams and goals built on the idealism of your youth.<br />
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So this is me catching up with life and pulling a dusty dream along with me. My dream of being a writer will no longer sit on a bookcase next to my ever growing stacks of paperbacks. I can still be a teacher, and use the lessons I learn and teach in the classroom to drive my written expression. They always say, "Write what you know." I may not be able to write as much as the blogger who has a regular 9-5 gig, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try, right?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14675493829321864315noreply@blogger.com0